Truly Forgotten
by Coopereid
Summary: Takes place during season seven's 'True Genius' - after Spencer's birthday is forgotten by the team, he considers what else is out there for him. How does he handle the conflict, and how does the team make up for forgetting about him?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I own absolutely nothing. These characters, the storylines, and everything else belong to a bunch of amazing people that I can't thank enough for creating this fantastic television show. Anything that comes from the show is all theirs, and I can only wish to have that much talent!

* * *

Celebrating Emily's birthday had been a great experience for the team. They were all happy to have her back, and having her birthday party was a fantastic way to keep them together after everything that happened since her return. Everyone enjoyed being able to get their minds off the job for a single night and holding conversations without fear of their phones ringing and a case coming up. All of them had gathered at Rossi's mansion, sipping wine and talking. Spencer kept to himself, leaning against the wall in the living room and admiring the artwork.

Garcia walked up behind him, squeezing his shoulder. "Are you okay in here, Boy Wonder?"

He smiled, nodding. "I'm fine, really. Just a little bit tired."

She pouted, rubbing his back. "Are you going to duck out early?"

"Probably. I have an assignment due for my Philosophy class, one of the last before I finally get my BA, and with the case in Philadelphia, it completely slipped my mind to get it done."

She looked around. "In fifteen minutes, I'll give you an out. Take it."

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you."

"Anytime, my sweets." She kissed his cheek, before patting his back and walking back over to Emily and JJ.

He sighed, finishing his wine glass and walking out to the kitchen, setting it in the sink. His birthday had been a few days ago – three, in fact. He had just turned 30, which he considered to be a big birthday, but nobody on the team remembered. He went into work that morning, expecting one of Garcia's world famous gift baskets, or at least a card. When his desk was completely empty, he set his bag down and looked through his drawers. After a thorough search of his desk, he came to the conclusion that the whole team had, in fact, forgotten about him. As the work day was about to start, he shook his head, closing the drawers and starting on the case files.

He checked his watch a few times and contemplated leaving on his own, not waiting for Garcia to give him a reason. He saw that everyone was currently holding conversations and doubted if any of them would notice that he'd be gone. However, a few minutes later, Garcia walked up, patting his shoulder. "You're free to go."

"Oh?" he asked.

"I told everyone that the last case interfered with your course work, and you need to finish this work tonight, or you'll fail. Nobody on this team wants that, so you're good."

He smirked, shouldering his bag. "Thank you."

"Anytime. Go ace that class and make your professor look like a dunce."

"…More than I already do?"

She smirked, patting his arm. "See you tomorrow."

He nodded, before walking out of the house and closing the door behind him.

* * *

After getting back to his apartment, Spencer set down his bag and walked to his room, lying down and running a hand over his face. He shouldn't have been so upset about the team forgetting something like his birthday: after all, they had celebrated his 24th for a short while before going on a case. But something about them forgetting this one did hurt. For some time, he'd been contemplating leaving the BAU and doing something else with his talents, something that could actually matter. He wasn't sure how he felt about it now, but it was definitely always on his mind. He shook his head, turning off the light on his nightstand and changing into a pair of pajamas, before lying back and falling asleep.

A while later, he felt the bed dip beside him, but didn't open his eyes. Instead, he continued to lie there, pretending to be asleep.

Derek reached up, running a hand through his hair. "We missed you at the party, Pretty Boy. Did you at least get your homework done?"

Spencer had done his homework – a week and a half ago when it had been due. He simply nodded, taking a deep breath and sighing.

"What's wrong? One of your migraines?"

It wasn't a migraine – in fact, he'd finally found a way to keep them under control. Rather than getting into this conversation right now, he nodded again. "I already took something, it'll pass."

"Do you need anything? Some water, an ice pack, or maybe some tea?"

He shook his head. "Just some sleep."

Derek grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed, pulling it over the two of them. Spencer laid awake for a while, unable to turn his brain off. When Derek started snoring beside him, he sighed, hoping to let all of it go.

* * *

Over the next few days, Spencer mostly kept to himself, and anytime Derek asked, he blamed it on a migraine. Every time he did, Derek tried his best to accommodate him, which only made him feel worse. When he and Emily had been asked to speak at a seminar with Patricia Cornwell, Spencer wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. He would definitely enjoy speaking, even though it wasn't one of his strong suits, but didn't know if he wanted to really be alone with Emily. He didn't have a personal problem with her, but just didn't like the fact that the team chose to focus on her and ignore him.

Spencer stood in their bedroom, looking at his go-bag. "Maybe I shouldn't do this seminar."

Derek looked away from the TV screen, eyebrow raised. "You're going to turn down speaking in the same room as Patricia Cornwell? After her last book, you didn't shut up about her for a week."

"One, it was four days, not a week, and two, I'm just not feeling it."

"…Not _feeling_ it? What, more migraines?"

He shook his head, folding a pair of pants and putting them in his go-bag. "No, I just… I don't know if I want to leave work."

Derek smirked. "Let's see… you could speak at a seminar and meet one of your favorite authors, all the while getting the hell out of the BAU for a while… or you could sit at your desk for a few days and do boring, monotonous work, hoping for a case to pop up. I don't know about you, but that trip is sounding _pretty_ good right now."

"Sometimes, I hate you. You know that, right?"

He smiled. "But the rest of the time, you love me."

Spencer mimicked him, packing his bag. "Hey, Derek?"

"Yes, Pretty Boy?" he asked, attention still on the TV.

"Why is it pretty much everybody else on the team has had an office or at least gotten some form of recognition except for me?"

Derek looked at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, Hotch is unit chief, and he's had an office as long as I've worked there. You were acting unit chief, got an office, and stayed there. Garcia has her lair. JJ had an office when she was the liaison. Hell, Rossi started the job and got an office his first day. I've been in the bullpen for over eight years and have never gotten any form of recognition or advancement." He avoided eye contact as he put his glasses into the bag, zipping it up. "I don't know, it's just sort of demeaning."

"If you think about it, Emily never had anything either-"

"But she had plenty of recognition at Interpol, as well as the jobs before that, not to mention with her connections, she could very easily have any position she wanted." He bit down on his lip, willing himself not to get upset. "It's slightly humiliating, if you think about it. Eight years at the same job and nobody remembers anything about me."

Derek sat up, turning off the TV. "I remember that your favorite composer is Beethoven, your favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip, after a long day of work all you want is a backrub, and that on your days off, you enjoy watching soap operas."

Spencer smiled slightly. "As great as it is that you can remember those, I don't think that'll help my standings at work." He grabbed his bag, walking out to the living room and throwing it down on the couch.

He walked back into the bedroom and looked through his nightstand, setting his book on the surface and turning on the lamp. After sitting down, he reached for his book, but was interrupted when Derek wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him toward him.

"What are you doing?" Spencer asked, turning to face him.

"Making you feel better," Derek said, kissing his cheek.

He smiled slightly, licking his lips. "Derek?"

"Yes, dear?"

He bit down on his lip, clearing his throat. "Is there anything you'd like to say to me? Anything that may have slipped your mind or been forgotten?"

Derek thought for a minute, before shaking his head slightly. "It's not our anniversary-"

Spencer shook his head. "That's in a few months, and I hope for your sake, you don't forget it."

He smirked, thinking again. "It's not quite Halloween yet."

"That's a few weeks away, and I fully expect you to be ready with a costume."

"You're not going to choose for me?"

"Not a chance."

Derek sighed, chewing on his cheek and looking up at the ceiling. "Something I've forgotten…" He then turned to face Spencer, who felt hopeful. "I'm sorry, I really can't think of anything. Is it something important?"

Spencer contemplated telling him, before shaking his head. "Nothing important. I have an early flight tomorrow. Do you mind if we just get some sleep tonight?"

Derek kissed his forehead. "No problem. Do you need a ride to the airport?"

"Emily's picking me up, so you can enjoy sleeping in. I'll walk Clooney before I leave so you don't have to get up until you want to."

"And _that's_ why I love you," Derek whispered, pulling him closer and kissing the top of his head.

Spencer smiled slightly, resting his head on Derek's chest, trying not to focus on how hurt he felt inside.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Spencer unwrapped himself from Derek's arms carefully, before letting Clooney out into the backyard. After his second cup of coffee, he let the dog back in, before grabbing his bag and waiting outside for Emily to pull up. He stayed quiet for most of the drive, as well as a good portion of the flight. Shortly before landing, Emily nudged his arm.

"Hm?"

"Hey, is everything okay with you?"

He nodded, sitting up straight. "I'm fine. The last few days have just been a little hectic at home."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

He shook his head. "No, I just mean I've had my migraines and Derek doesn't really know the definition of common courtesy."

"You _still_ have them? I thought they were under control."

"They are, well, for the most part. It's just that sometimes, they come back." He shrugged. "It's fine. I've got them under control."

"Are you sure? Maybe you can go back to the doctor. They might've stopped being psychosomatic-"

"They're nothing, really." He leaned back in his seat. "Do you have your speech ready?"

She held up her note cards. "Bits and pieces. Times like this, an eidetic memory would come in handy."

He shrugged. "Sorry."

* * *

When they landed in Chicago, he dropped Emily off at the hotel to finish her speech.

"Are you sure you don't need to work on yours?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine. I just need to meet up with somebody first."

She leaned into the open window. "The in-laws?"

"Something like that. I'll be back in time for the seminar."

"Sure?"

He nodded. "Promise."

She reached in for her bag, before walking toward the hotel. "Enjoy the mother in law!" she called out.

He rolled his eyes before pulling out of the spot, driving.

* * *

Once he got to his destination, he got out of the rental car, walking up the front steps and knocking, hoping to have a response. He hadn't called ahead, but really hoped he could talk to somebody not on the job for a change. When the door was answered, he was relieved.

"Spencer! I didn't know you'd be in town."

He smiled to himself. "I was just called in for a seminar. Derek's still back in Quantico. Derek said if I was in the area and didn't visit you, he'd rat me out and I'd never live it down."

"Sounds like him." She held the door open. "Come on in, I'll make a fresh pot of coffee."

He followed her inside and sat down at the kitchen table. She set a cup of coffee in front of him and sat next to him. "So, how are you?"

He shrugged slightly. "Fine, I guess."

She held up her finger. "Before I forget…" she reached over, grabbing an envelope and handing it to him. "Happy Birthday."

He took the card out, smiling. "Thank you. It's nice to be remembered." He tucked the card into his satchel before dragging the sugar over, pouring it into his cup.

"…Nice to be re- do _not_ tell me Derek forgot your birthday. It was nearly two weeks ago."

"It's nothing, really. He's not the only one."

"…Who remembered?"

He thought to himself as he stirred the sugar into his coffee. "Counting the two of us? Two."

"Do I need to have a talk with Derek?"

He sipped his coffee, shaking his head. "He remembers anniversaries and other important dates. This is the first time he's forgotten something, and the rest of the team did too, so I'm not holding it against them. It did hurt slightly that they remembered my coworker's birthday, which is only three days later than mine, but I can't focus on it."

"Well, it _was_ your 30th. That's a pretty big deal."

He shrugged it off. "Apparently not, but it's fine."

She reached over, rubbing his back. "If you need to talk, I'll be around."

He smiled appreciatively, and decided to stay as long as he could. Having somebody to talk to that wasn't directly involved with the team was slightly therapeutic, and he definitely enjoyed having conversations that didn't involve unsubs and murders. Before leaving, she'd made him promise that he'd talk about anything that was bothering him, if he couldn't talk to anyone on the team.

* * *

He drove back to the hotel and met Emily in the conference room where the seminar was being held. He sat in his seat and simply listened, not wanting to inconvenience anybody or be a bother. Though talking to his pseudo mother-in-law was a great help, he still couldn't help but feel slightly upset, especially about everything he talked to Derek about. When he was called up to speak, he lost his train of thought, and whatever speech he had prepared was gone. He had prepared himself to talk about paraphilias, but everything on the subject matter seemed to vanish from his mind. He started rambling and felt like a complete idiot, before finally giving up on the awkward silences and ending his speech, sitting back down next to Emily.

After the seminar was over, he walked out to the hall, as nobody was interested in getting his point of view on past murder cases, even though he could recite every bit of information on them verbatim. The feeling of slight insignificance still ate at him, especially after speaking to the founder of NanoVex, who was a senior in college. It was hard to believe that someone eight years younger than him had applied his knowledge and was so much more successful than he'd ever be. Sitting in his hotel room later on, he stared up at the ceiling, continuing to think on the subject matter. He only stopped when his phone started vibrating. He reached over, answering it with a sigh.

"Hello?"

"Uh oh, what has my Boy Wonder frowning?"

He smiled slightly. "Nothing. I spent time with Derek's mother this afternoon, and that was great, you know, talking to somebody who doesn't understand the lifestyle of a profiler and doesn't constantly change the subject matter to serial killers."

"I sense a but coming…"

He sighed. "But I froze up on my speech and proceeded to make a complete fool of myself talking about paraphilias and dendrophilia-"

"Dendro_what_?"

He winced. "A fetish for trees?"

"Ouch. Are you okay?"

"Extremely embarrassed, especially because I looked like an idiot in front of one of my favorite authors, but at least it's over with?"

"That it is, and guess what?"

"I can go home and pretend this didn't happen?" he asked hopefully.

"Better! The Zodiac's back in California and the team's out to catch him. They need their favorite genius' help."

He smiled slightly. "When does our flight leave?"

"In an hour, the team will be at the park waiting for you."

He sighed, checking the clock. "Guess I need to pack up. I'll be in touch soon."

"You bet you will. Enjoy the flight, because your favorite tech genius was able to swing getting you two the jet, so you don't need to discuss it in front of a bunch of folks with weak stomachs."

"And that's why you're the best," he said, reaching for his bag and packing.

"So I've heard. Over and out, genius."

He hung up and exhaled, stuffing his things into his bag and looking forward to burying himself in some work to forget the day had ever happened.

* * *

On the flight, Spencer attempted to look through the case file on Emily's tablet.

"Do you think it's really him?" she asked.

"I sincerely doubt it, considering the original Zodiac last attacked nearly 45 years ago, and if he was 20 at the time, he'd be 65 by now. Though he was able to get away with it before, I don't think someone of that age would be able to commit a murder and not leave a trail." He looked at the blood spatter on the seats and frowned. "I think we have a copycat on our hands, and apparently, a very thorough one. He might've been a fan of the original zodiac and wants to be like him, because this feels inexperienced."

"…_Feels_ inexperienced?"

He set the tablet down in front of her. "The piece of the shirt left that matches the blood type of the last victim? It doesn't look like a piece of clothing that's over 40 years old, but something that's distressed. I'd have to get a better look at it, but I doubt the blood would keep that well on the shirt."

She flipped through the images. "He left behind the symbol on the windshield and left a photo of one of the alleged victims," she tried to reason.

"Both can be found with a simple Google search," he said, shrugging.

"What about copying his murders?"

Spencer put up a finger. "He did copy the murders, but it's surprising that he didn't copy the very first murder, which was a couple in 1968."

"…But the first two victims were a couple."

He shook his head. "It's not the same as the first, and you'd think a true copycat would want to do so."

"…Unless it's actually the Zodiac."

"I spent a few weeks before getting into the BAU reading about the Zodiac, and I probably know him better than anybody else working this case. I'll know for sure if it's him once I get a look at the crime scene."

She leaned back in her seat, closing the tablet. "You know nobody's going to even remember your speech, right?"

He avoided eye contact, getting up and making himself some coffee. "That's easy for you to say when you gave a speech that went well, and then you had people who actually wanted to talk to you after the fact."

"Come on, you've never been one for public speaking, and-"

"…And it's okay that I made a complete fool of myself because I'm not a great public speaker?" He poured his coffee. "That's not exactly comforting."

"It's not going to help to stay hung up on it."

He shrugged it off, drinking his coffee.

"Did talking to Derek's mother help?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.

He nodded, setting down the cup on the table. "It did. It didn't take my mind off of everything permanently, but it was nice to have a break from it and talk to someone where the tangents don't lead to discussions on serial killers or abductors or any other form of unsub."

"I'll bet." She checked her watch. "We still have a few hours before we land in San Francisco. I think I'm going to get some sleep. You probably should too."

He nodded as she patted his arm, walking back to one of the seats, pulling down the shade, and attempting to get some sleep.

He sighed, wondering if he should talk to her about what was bothering him, but decided against it, knowing that at this point in time, the case had to come first. He had to push aside everything that aggravated him and work this case, proving what he thought: the Zodiac had another copycat. He walked back to the couch, setting his satchel down as a pillow and lying back, closing his eyes.

* * *

When they landed at the airport, Emily got the keys to an SUV from a waiting police officer and Spencer got in, setting his bags in the backseat.

"So the team's already at the park waiting?" he asked, buckling himself in.

She checked her phone and saw a text from JJ. "They left the police station a half hour ago and they're on their way to the crime scene as we speak."

He nodded, going through the photos on her tablet again.

"So you're fully convinced it's not the real Zodiac?"

"Almost completely. One look at the crime scene will tell me for sure."

"You really think you know the Zodiac that well?"

"Mhm." He paused on a photo, zooming in as she started driving.

* * *

Once they arrived at the park, Spencer walked up to where JJ was talking to one of the agents.

"Have any letters of ciphers been received?" he asked.

Hotch introduced him and Emily to her as JJ looked at him. "How was the conference?"

He internally groaned. "Enlightening."

Emily turned to the agent. "Has the unsub made any contact?"

"The Chronicle's web site manager received two phone calls this morning: there was just heavy breathing on the other end, like the phone calls Zodiac used to make."

Spencer thought to himself. "Can I get a _physical_ copy of the online version of today's paper?"

"…You want a printout of the online version?"

He nodded. "Yeah, with all the comments printed out as well, if possible, thanks."

The agent turned to JJ, who shook her head. "Don't ask."

Spencer enjoyed joking around with the team as much as the next person, but he couldn't help but take it personally when they'd take those little jabs at him, especially considering his thought processes as of late. He looked at the crime scene photos. "It's not the real Zodiac," he confirmed.

"…How can you be so sure?" Emily asked.

He walked over to the car and looked at the blood spatter, as well as where the bodies were before they'd been taken out. "I just know it. Sometimes, I can't really explain it."

At this point in time, he knew the team didn't want to believe him, because every person in law enforcement wanted to be the one to catch the Zodiac, and this seemed to be their chance to do so. Everyone on the scene seemed to be convinced that they were actually looking for the real guy, and no amount of logic or reasoning would change their minds.


	3. Chapter 3

After looking at the crime scene, he opted to take an SUV to the FBI building on his own after everybody else, wanting to spend time away from the team to think about how to convince them of the truth. He threw the case file onto the passenger seat, before starting the car and driving. Considering everything that had happened over the last few weeks, he'd have no problem putting some distance between himself and the other members of the team. He pulled up to the building and took a deep breath, stuffing the file into his satchel. He reached to grab it, but saw someone standing on the steps, several cameras in front of him. Knowing that it was probably someone looking for their fifteen minutes, he got out and locked the doors, walking up the steps.

"The dates match," he heard the man explain. "When Zodiac stopped killing, my cousin was put in a mental hospital in Mexico. He was released two months ago."

"Do you have anything more specific?" one of the reporters asked.

"He was, uh, working on a production of _The Mikado_ in '68 – the Zodiac talked about the _The Mikado_ in a letter."

Spencer rolled his eyes, walking up and standing next to the man. "Excuse me, I'm Dr. Reid with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Was your cousin by chance a fan of Wagner? Because a CD of _The Tragic Overture_ was sent to the police this morning."

"He loved Wagner, especially _The Tragic Overture_, that's him."

Spencer laughed to himself. "Yeah, well, for the record? A CD was _not_ sent to the police this morning, and _The Tragic Overture_ was written by Brahms, not Wagner, so _luckily_, I guess it's not your cousin." He pushed the man aside, looking into the cameras. How he had the strength to do so, he wasn't sure, but he was definitely ready to prove anybody a liar who wanted to look for attention from these murders. "The FBI would greatly appreciate it if people would stop making false claims to get their 15 minutes of fame. Thank you, thank you very much."

* * *

Once he was in the building, he received the printouts of the comments, trying to find any ciphers or hidden messages left by the unsub. If he was truly replicating the Zodiac, there would definitely be something there. He heard JJ and Hotch talking in the distance, and only hoped that they weren't talking about his little outburst in front of the media. He heard footsteps walking toward him and looked up.

"Reid, how's it going?"

He looked through the printouts. "Computers slow me down, so I prefer paper, but I wasn't expecting all these comments. Where do people find the time?" He grabbed one of the papers and studied it for a second, eyebrow raised. "I think I just found a cipher from the unsub. The symbols buried in the spam are the same ones the Zodiac used in his first messages back in 1969."

He leaned forward. "What does it say?"

He scanned it again as the message popped out at him. "'Killing is the most fun you can have, 98 minutes below the horizon in Magic City with President Garfield. Happy Hunting'." He chanced a look up at Hotch, hoping he'd given him the answer he wanted. He saw him dialing the phone and knew he was turning to Garcia to help solve it, though he wasn't sure why, considering he could very easily do it himself with time.

Garcia answered. "The oracle is in, how may I assist?"

"Garcia, to what specific location does 'Magic City' refer?" Hotch asked.

Spencer heard her typing as he tried to think of it himself. "Birmingham, Alabama."

He chewed on his cheek. "'98 minutes below the horizon…' Garcia, what time is sunset there tonight?"

"6:22."

"98 minutes later would be 8:00 p.m.," Spencer figured out. "What's dedicated to President Garfield in San Francisco?"

"President Garfield… there's a statue of him in Golden Gate Park."

"Thanks, Garcia." He hung up and turned to Spencer. "See if you can find anything else. We'll be at the park starting at 7:00."

He nodded, knowing that there wouldn't be additional ciphers, but definitely not minding the fact that he'd have more time to himself."

* * *

They all waited in the park, well hidden by the trees and the lamp posts. There were two agents waiting on the park bench in front of the statue. When 8:00 came around, there was no sign of anybody in the park until there was a single person driving up. Hotch raised his gun, pointing it at the man.

"Drop it."

The man quickly dropped the envelope on the ground. "I'm just the messenger. I'm supposed to deliver a letter."

JJ reached down, grabbing the envelope and reading it. "…It's for Reid."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, taking it and opening it up. "'You're not as smart as you think you are'." He sighed to himself, knowing that it was most likely in response to what he'd said to the press earlier that day. Not only was this unsub replicating the Zodiac, but he was getting cocky, which was definitely going to get to him.

"Who sent it?" Hotch asked.

The man shook his head. "I don't know. I just deliver to the address when I'm supposed to."

Spencer sighed, tucking the envelope into his pocket, knowing that the unsub had now made it personal against him.

* * *

When they made it back to the hotel that night, Hotch handed out the room assignments. Luckily, everyone was given a separate room on this trip, even him and Derek. He picked up his bags in the lounge and watched as everyone else went to their rooms. He licked his lips before walking to his room, throwing his bags down on the bed and running a hand over his face. He thought to himself before walking out of his room and toward Derek's, knocking.

He came to the door, opening it. "Well, hello, Pretty Boy. Decided to share a room after all?"

Spencer bit his lip, shaking his head. "I need your tablet."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "You're going to give up a night of cuddling to look at pictures of murders? Who are you and what have you done to Spencer Reid?"

"Derek, please?" he asked.

He held the door open, allowing Spencer to walk inside, before walking over and digging through his bags. He pulled out his tablet, holding it out to him. Before Spencer could grab it, he pulled it away. "Why do you need it?"

He groaned, reaching for it. "Derek, the unsub has made this case personal targeting me. I don't know about you, but if an unsub's taunting me, I'm not going to sleep until he's caught. Now, I'm going to research any articles that may have been posted about him tonight and see if he's left anything else in the comments. Can you hand it over?"

"Do you need to talk? You've been quiet lately-"

"And you promised that we'd stop profiling each other when we're upset." He reached for the tablet again, grabbing it. "Thank you, and I'll talk to you in the morning."

Derek sighed, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "If you need to talk, I'm here."

He nodded, before turning around and walking back to the room, closing the door behind him. He sat up on the bed, tucking his legs underneath himself, before looking through comments on news articles, hoping to find something to get closer to finding him.

* * *

The next morning, Spencer woke up to a text message from JJ that there had been another murder. Groaning, he quickly got dressed before walking over to Derek's room, knocking on the door. Once Derek answered, he held out the tablet to him. "Thank you."

"Anytime." He walked over, setting it on the nightstand and plugging it in to charge. "Did you get the text?"

He nodded. "Another couple, this time in Albany Park. The Golden Gate Park was just a setup so none of our attention would be where he was."

"This guy's really pissing you off, isn't he?" Derek asked, pulling on his shirt.

Spencer exhaled, nodding. "Like you wouldn't believe."

Derek smirked, putting on his sidearm. "Do you need a ride to the park?"

"Please."

He stuffed his credentials and wallet into his pocket before resting his hand on Spencer's back, leading him out of the room and closing the door behind him.

* * *

At the park, the rest of the team was already looking at the crime scene. He overheard Agent Lin telling JJ that they were a couple: a teacher and a lawyer. He shook his head, walking over to Emily while Derek went to talk to one of the police officers with Rossi. Everyone knew that the case was now pissing off Spencer because the unsub targeted him individually, out of everyone on the team.

Emily stuffed her hands into her pockets. "It's a high vantage point," she started, walking with him. "The victims chose it for the view, the unsub so he could see if anyone was coming."

He tried not to let it get to him as his phone started ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw that it was Garcia, answering. "Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, Boo." He smiled to himself, happy to finally hear a different nickname, though he wasn't entirely sure what a 'boo' was. "I tracked the ISP of the user who entered the spam comment to an Internet café, but he used a prepaid credit card, so I don't have an I.D."

He tried not to let how upset he was show. "All right, thanks, Garcia."

He hung up, turning around to face the crime scene as Hotch and JJ were walking toward him. "He used the same code that was broken years ago in a riddle we cracked in seconds. He knew we'd solve it. It was a decoy."

"No, it's a taunt – he wants to prove he's smarter than everyone," Hotch explained.

He sighed. "And we fell for it. Well, if he's trying to compete with me? Then it means he's most likely within five years of my age. The question is… why?"

Hotch looked at him. "But the message might not have been for you, Reid."

Not _meant_ for him? "A letter was hand-delivered to me last night," he tried to argue.

"The comment to the paper was written at 9:03 a.m. – we weren't even in the city yet, so how would the unsub know you'd be involved in the case?" Emily asked.

He looked down at the ground, thinking to himself. The unsub had made it personal against him, so it _had_ to be directed at him.

JJ spoke up. "You _did_ give your name to the press later that day. And you said yourself he knew we'd be in the park."

"…If he's doing his best to emulate the Zodiac, killing in such quick succession would be a mistake."

"The shortest time span for the Zodiac was two weeks?" Spencer nodded in agreement.

"Maybe the unsub doesn't have a choice. Maybe he's experiencing a time pressure that he has no control over?" Emily suggested.

Hotch uncrossed his arms, looking around at them. "We're ready to give the profile."

He watched as everyone else walked away and sighed to himself. He had to distance himself from the team, allowing him the space to use his own thought processes to find him, because none of them saw what he did.


	4. Chapter 4

While the rest of the team was at the police station, giving the profile, he decided to sit in a café with all the printouts of the comments from the online edition of the paper, trying to find another cipher or any form of message from the unsub. So far he wasn't having any luck, though he had circled a few to go back to at a later time. There were so many comments for him to fish through, and he was having next to no luck. All of the self doubt and the negativity seemed to come back in that moment, and he was wondering what he was still doing in the FBI. Yes, he'd be able to solve this case and figure out the unsub's mindset for the reasoning behind it, but he couldn't help but wonder what else he could be doing to help people that didn't involve constantly surrounding himself with negativity and disturbing images.

He had just ordered his second mug of coffee and sat down with it when he heard someone walking up behind him. Assuming it was just another stranger, he kept his attention on the comments, circling a few sections. As the footsteps grew closer, he chanced a glance up and saw Emily standing there. He gave a quick nod before going back to his work, looking at the different comments as she sat down in front of him.

"Hey, are you gonna tell me what's up?" she asked, linking her hands together and looking at him. He kept his attention on the pages, mouthing words to himself. She sighed. "Reid, it's me."

He sighed, defeated, clicking his pen and setting it down on the table. He knew that he had to put this out in the open to someone, and the opportunity was finally right in front of him. He'd tried before with Derek, but would always get distracted or find a reason to discuss something else. He licked his lips, considering his wording. "Do you ever wonder if you lived up to expectations?"

She laughed to herself. "I beat them. I figured I'd be a bored socialite by 25."

"…I thought I'd cure schizophrenia by the time I was 25." He smiled slightly. "You know, when I was a kid, people told me that I could do anything."

"You're afraid you've let people down?"

"…No, I'm afraid I've let myself down."

"By not curing schizophrenia?"

"No, just because…" he cleared his throat, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know why I'm in the FBI."

"I see. You're a genius, but you have the same job as me, Morgan, JJ…"

"Yeah, exactly," he caught himself, smirking and shaking his head. "No, that's not what I'm saying. It's just sometimes… sometimes I kind of get this feeling like maybe I should have done something more with my life."

She shook her head. "How old are you? 29."

"I'm 30," he said quickly.

Her smile faded fast as she looked up at him. "No way." He nodded, looking down at the pages again. "We missed your birthday? Why didn't you tell us?" He played with his fingers, suddenly contemplating if this was the right decision. "The fact of the matter is, you're young. There's still time."

"By the time Nikola Tesla was 30, he already invented the induction motor."

"You know what, you might be right. You don't hear that much about child prodigies once they grow up. In fact, most of them turn out average."

He smiled slightly, laughing to himself. "That's not true. Are you trying reverse psychology with me?"

"I'm just telling it like it is." She reached out, grabbing the page he had been working on.

"What are you doing?"

She clicked the pen. "Well, you just told me yourself you're washed up. I should take a look at this."

"That's not what I'm saying. It's… Seriously, what are you doing?" He watched as she started circling random passages on the page.

"No, I'm just looking to see what you missed."

"Don't do- You're gonna- You're gonna actually mess it up, Emily. Give it back to me." He grabbed it from underneath her, taking it and looking at what she'd done. "Wait a minute, that's it. The real code is in the words." He took the pen from her, deciphering the code. "China Weekly Post, page F-4."

Emily smiled, reaching in her pocket and taking out her phone as he got up, walking out and calling Hotch.

* * *

While Spencer was outside, Emily dialed Garcia.

"What can I do for you?"

"Can you put the two of us on a conference call with JJ and Morgan?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I can do anything, but why aren't we including Hotch and Rossi?"

"Because Derek Morgan is so far in the doghouse, I don't think he can even see the light of day."

"Oooh, do tell!"

Emily shook her head. "I'll tell when you set up that call, PG."

"Oh, fine."

She called JJ, who answered almost automatically. "Yeah, Garcia?"

"Are you with Derek right now?"

"…He's right next to me, why?" she asked, eyeing him.

"Do me a favor and put me on speaker? Emily's also on the line and apparently, he's in the doghouse, _big time_."

"This should be interesting." She sat down beside Derek, putting the phone on speaker. "You've got both of us, Emily. What's going on?"

She leaned back in her seat, twisting her own coffee cup on the table. "Reid is out making a phone call to Hotch about a discovery, but that's not the purpose of this call."

"…Then what is?" Garcia asked.

"Derek, why didn't you tell us that the entire team forgot about his 30th birthday?"

Garcia gasped. "He would never do that."

"I'm with Garcia on this one. I remember everything. Our first date anniversary is January 16th, another anniversary is May 20th-"

"Another?" Garcia asked, smirking.

"None of your business. My birthday is June 6th, and his birthday is October 9th…"

"Look at a calendar, Morgan. It's the 19th."

He raised an eyebrow, taking out his phone and checking the calendar. Sure enough, it was ten days past his birthday. "That's not possible. We just celebrated your birthday a week ago-"

"Which is why I'm feeling like dirt right now, I don't know about the rest of you."

Garcia groaned, hitting her hand on the desk. "Derek Morgan, part of the reason I approve of you shacking up with the Boy Wonder is because you remind us of things like this. How could you let this happen? And his 30th at that!"

"He didn't say anything-"

"Yeah, probably because everyone was talking about _Emily's_ surprise party, he was thinking we were actually tricking him into his own," JJ reasoned. "Wow, I feel like a jerk."

"That makes three of us, Jayje." Garcia sighed, leaning back. "What do you suppose we do about this, Derek?"

He ran a hand over his scalp. "This is why he's been acting so weird the last few weeks. God damnit."

Garcia clapped her hands together. "Derek, focus."

"Right, sorry." He sat up, clearing his throat. "Garcia, how quickly can you put together a surprise party?"

"…I can have it ready the day after you get back in the BAU room, I just need to run it by the boss man first-"

"Do it. And I trust that you can make him a chocolate cake, it's his favorite."

"Oh, I bet it is," she said, writing it down on a post-it and smirking.

He rolled his eyes. "I'll check in with you on this later."

"Consider it done."

Garcia hung up and he sighed. "Scale of one to ten, how badly did I mess up?" he asked.

JJ thought to herself. "About an eight?"

"Considering he was just talking to me about thinking he could've done better with his life and having serious self-doubt issues on top of that?" Emily started. "An eleven, at _least_."

JJ winced, patting Derek's shoulder. "Good luck."

* * *

After calling Hotch, Spencer walked back into the café, looking at Emily. "Hotch is going to meet me in Chinatown to try to find the specific paper I'm looking for, are you coming?"

She nodded, pointing to the phone. "Gotta go." She hung up the phone, stuffing it back into her pocket.

"Who was that?"

She eyed her pocket then looked back at him. "Sorry, it was just my mother checking in. You just saved me from an hour long lecture about happiness in the workplace, so I should really be thanking you."

He smiled slightly. "I'm glad I could help?"

She got up, leaving a tip on the table and grabbing his pages, following him out.

* * *

Once they arrived in Chinatown, they met up with Hotch. Spencer walked beside him, trying to explain how he'd found the code. "The spam had to be converted from matrix code to binary code, then switched to base eight before being translated back into letters. I can go into more detail if you want."

"Uh, no." Hotch said plainly. "How smart would a person have to be to write a code like that?"

"Beyond smart. Profoundly gifted, an IQ of at least 160." He gave them both a quick look before walking into the building, going through the different papers on the table.

"That changes the profile then."

He dug through the stacks. "The unsub could still hold a menial or low-level job. Many believe that beyond an IQ of 120, success is determined by other factors. This is a bilingual paper. The English version should be somewhere."

Emily helped him dig through the papers while Hotch went outside to call Garcia about anyone with high IQs. She handed the paper to him and he walked out, opening it up and standing next to Hotch.

"All right, this is it."

He scanned the page before pointing to the article. "'You could do so much better'," Hotch read out.

"I'll talk to the manager, see if they know who placed the ad," Emily said, before walking outside.

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Who's this message for? The writer is a genius, but the recipient would have to be too, in order to decode it."

Hotch was ready to respond, but answered his phone. "Yeah, Dave? All right." He hung up, turning to Spencer. "A cabdriver's just been murdered."

* * *

Rossi, Derek, and JJ were checking out the scene while Emily and Hotch went back to the station with Spencer. After returning, the team sat in one of the conference rooms while Spencer looked at the evidence board. He could hear Rossi talking with Derek and Hotch beside him, but instead kept himself focused.

"What's he doing?" he heard Derek ask.

"We've been thinking about this case too linearly," he explained, moving around some of the photos. "Based on the complexity of the code, it's obvious this unsub is operating on several different levels. So we need to start thinking in multiple dimensions." He grabbed all the photos, taking them off the board and stacking them.

"…So this is what happens when you forget his birthday?" Hotch whispered to Derek.

He exhaled, raising his eyebrows and taking out his phone, walking out and calling Garcia.


	5. Chapter 5

Spencer was sitting cross-legged in one of the chairs, trying to come up with an answer. He got up, digging through the photos at high speed, looking for something specific. He heard Emily mention the surveillance footage from the newspaper, but this unsub knew better and knew how to cover his tracks. He continued going through the stack, shuffling through the photos.

"Spence, you okay?"

"Nothing is accidental," he said, not looking up. "Nothing this unsub does is accidental." He started putting the photos back on the board. "The message in the China Weekly Post was on page F-4. Why F-4?"

"…Well, that's where the classifieds were?" Derek suggested.

"It's more than that." He licked his lips, trying to find his answer on his own. He knew the team wanted to help, but since the unsub chose to make this case personal, he needed to do it himself.

When it finally occurred to him, he had one of the agents pull up a map of the area, complete with the murder scenes marked off, overlaying a chess board. "Can you rotate that?" Once that was done, he pointed to the screen. "See, F-4 is a chess square."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "He murdered people according to a chess game?"

"Specifically, game six of Fischer versus Spassky in 1972, one of the greatest chess matches ever played. The murder locations correspond with the final three moves of the game."

Hotch dialed Garcia, having her look through the people with high IQ's and cross referencing it with professional chess players. When that resulted in nothing, she expanded the search to high level amateurs.

"Get ready to love me more. I did a search of chess players rated 2200 or higher, which would make them masters but not necessarily professionals. I cross-referenced that search with Zodiac experts and came up with two former chess prodigies and best friends who used to write about the Zodiac in their junior high school newspaper, and I get bonus points because they both have IQs over 160."

"Where are they?" Hotch asked.

"In San Francisco. Caleb Rossmore is a city parks employee. Harvey Morell is an engineer at a Chinese computer firm. He's about to get married. And yes, I just e-mailed you all this information right… now."

JJ picked up her tablet, pulling up the images. "The fiancee, Marisa Devon, looks like the two female victims. They were surrogates for her."

"Caleb could be jealous of his friend," Derek suggested.

"Or what if he's afraid of losing Harvey?" Emily added.

Spencer shook his head. "If he was a child prodigy, he may no longer feel special as an adult. He could be trying to hold on to him."

"Harvey's engagement could have been a trigger."

Hotch then pointed to Spencer. "Reid, I know Spassky conceded the match, but what would the next move have been?"

He pointed to the screen where the map was still up. "Spassky would've been checkmated, or he would have lost his queen."

It finally occurred to him what Caleb's plan could be. "Marisa could've been in the back of that cab, and he's decided to hold her hostage to keep her from Harvey, or he's planning on killing her, hoping to get Harvey in on it."

Hotch nodded. "JJ, take Rossi and Prentiss in one of the SUVs. Reid, you come with Morgan and I in another."

He nodded, clipping on his sidearm and following Hotch outside.

* * *

Spencer sat in the backseat while Hotch was on the phone with Garcia and Derek took the passenger seat, holding onto the grip above the window. "Spassky's queen was in square E-8, so that would land us in Richmond," he explained. "Garcia, is there a connection between that location and the two men?"

"Checking now. Uh… Bingo. Harvey's dad worked there as a chemistry teacher in the '60s. And… oh, uh, Caleb lived there in 2008. He worked at the Powerlinks Gym on 2nd and Hill, and the Dragon Temple Restaurant at 636 Mason."

Hotch thought quickly. "All right, JJ, you go to the gym; we'll check out the restaurant."

"Copy that," she said, and Spencer saw the SUV behind them take a turn.

Rossi hung up his phone. "Zablonsky's wife recognized the photos of Caleb and Harvey. They interviewed the detective for an article they were writing about the Zodiac when they were kids."

"Oh, they wrote a "Crime Beat" column in the newspaper," Garcia said, pulling something up.

JJ shook her head. "One of them stole the photo left at the first crime scene."

"It had to be Caleb. The message 'You can do so much better' in the Chinese paper was meant for Harvey."

"That means the original spam message was for him, too," Emily added.

"Well, how did Caleb know that Harvey wouldn't turn him in?" Derek asked.

"Caleb has something on him, or he's holding the fiancée hostage."

"Shut the front door!" Garcia said. "They were interviewed by police in 2000 about a crime in their hometown."

"…What crime?" Spencer asked.

"The disappearance of Robbie Shaw."

Spencer looked at the other two agents in the SUV. "That's got to be it. They might have murdered him and Caleb could very easily release the location of his body, putting the both of them in prison and separating him and Marisa for good."

JJ sighed. "Then why take Marisa?"

"…Leverage?" Derek suggested.

Spencer nodded, watching out the window as they pulled up.

* * *

As they parked, Spencer got out, adjusting his vest. "Hotch, please let me take this one."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "You had yours, Derek had his. This one's mine."

"…I'll let you take the lead. Be careful. And Morgan? I want you to have his back."

"No problem."

They walked inside, clearing a few of the rooms before they heard talking in the back.

"It's a hostage situation," Hotch explained after they'd walked toward it. "Caleb's not going to be easily talked down. Reid, go ahead."

He nodded slightly, walking toward the noise, careful not to make any noise to set one of them off.

* * *

"The police won't catch us, because the murders were perfect. Just like Robbie Shaw's." He overheard one of them speaking and knew it had to be Caleb. Derek gave him a quick nod as he turned the corner, his gun raised.

"Not really. If they were perfect, I probably wouldn't be here right now."

"I had nothing to do with this," Harvey reasoned, his hands up as Caleb turned to face him.

"You really went out of your way to impress Harvey, Caleb. The murders… the chess game, all designed to entice him." He eyed them both as he knew Hotch and Morgan were setting up behind him.

"Yes. He is pathological!"

Spencer shook his head. "I don't know if Harvey's the best friend in the world if he's selling you out like that. I mean, after you killed Robbie Shaw together, you probably thought that you guys had an unbreakable bond.

Harvey continued to point the accusatory finger. "He murdered Robbie by himself."

"When we took him into the woods and strangled him… I've never seen you so exhilarated. The look on your face. You can't deny that, Harvey.

"But afterwards, something changed. You two grew apart..."

"I wasn't there."

"You pulled away from me," Caleb began to explain. "Do you know how much that hurt? I would have done anything for you, Harvey. I looked up to you."

Spencer stepped forward, his gun lowered. "You know what I think, Harvey? I think killing Robbie Shaw was your idea."

"No."

Caleb shook his head. "You chose him… because his brother used to pick on you in school."

"You're successful, you're charismatic, you're dominant, which means that you most likely made the plans and Caleb followed. Let me ask you this— where did you hide the body?"

"Listen to me… " he started.

"If I was gonna kill somebody and hide a body, I think I would probably use sulfuric acid. You know, especially if my father was a chemistry teacher, right, Caleb?"

His attention changed to Caleb. "Caleb… don't listen to him. He is trying to trick us."

"Do you trust him, Caleb?"

"Caleb! Hey, Caleb! Whatever happens, we'll protect each other."

"Oh, I'm s-… I'm sure that he'll protect you if he's around. I mean, he is moving to Shanghai in a couple of months. He put the… put the transfer in about a year ago. Wait, did - did your good friend Harvey not tell you about that? I'm sure that he'll send you a postcard."

Caleb's attention shifted back to Harvey as he tried to explain himself. "I was going to tell you."

He shook his head slightly, breaking down and finally confessing. "Robbie's bones are buried in his backyard." He threw the gun down on the ground as Derek came out, grabbing him by the hood and dragging him out.

Proud of himself, Spencer put his gun back in its holster, walking over and untying Harvey's fiancée and leading her out. Moments like this were the times he didn't doubt himself or his job path that led to the BAU, because of the way it made him feel when he was able to solve the crime and spare somebody's life. Right then, he knew he made the right choice, and he definitely wasn't going to leave the BAU anytime soon, despite recent events.


	6. Chapter 6

After the team boarded the jet to go home, Spencer put his things into the overhead before lying back on the couch. The team had all congratulated him after they went back to the station, which gave him time to finally get some sleep, considering he hadn't slept since before the case.

JJ peeked around her seat, looking back at him. "Jesus, did he sleep the whole time we were gone?"

Derek shook his head. "The second Caleb sent a letter with his name on the front and made it personal, he had a vendetta against him. He wasn't going to sleep until we finally got him."

Emily smiled. "Same old hard-headed Reid." She turned around and saw that he didn't respond. "_And_ he's fast asleep, because normally that would warrant a comment."

JJ reached in her pocket, taking out her phone and calling Garcia, putting the phone on speaker.

"How can I help you?" she asked, closing her oven door.

"Hey, PG. What are you up to?"

"Well, I just finished baking the world's greatest chocolate cake and it's currently cooling. Get this, I figured out how to write 'Happy 30th Birthday, Spencer' in binary code for his cake."

Derek smirked. "I don't know, after all the ciphers he's had to solve, he may just want it plain and simple."

She yawned dramatically. "_Boring_. Sir, is the BAU room tomorrow morning all set?"

"Yes, Garcia. But I need your word that there won't be anything extreme that will make me regret doing this for you."

"But-" she started, before sighing. "Fine, nothing fun."

Emily smirked. "Question is, how do we pull it over on him?"

Derek leaned back in his seat, thinking to himself. "You could be in the hallway when he comes up the elevator and say that Hotch wants to talk to him, so he'll think he's in some sort of trouble, but then you lead him to the BAU room and it's his party?"

"That is evil and that is genius!" Garcia said, mixing the frosting.

JJ put up her finger. "Only one problem with that, Derek. The fact that you two live together and commute in together?"

"Damn." He chewed on his cheek. "I could say I'm going to work straight from the gym. He won't get out of bed and argue with that."

"I like… oh, and sir, I'd officially like to take the title of birthday coordinator of the team so something like this never happens again?"

Hotch smiled, shaking his head. "Approved, it's all on you."

"Fantastic! I need to finish my baking before bed, so make it back safely, my pretties, and I'll see you tomorrow."

JJ hung up the phone, smirking. "Birthday coordinator?"

"Considering us forgetting his resulted in him wanting to leave the FBI?" Emily started, pointing back to Spencer. "I think it's a fantastic idea."

* * *

JJ turned to Derek. "All of us are bad, but I can only _imagine_ how pissed off he is at you right now."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, trust me, I've been getting the cold shoulder, and I'm currently trying to find the best way to dig myself out of the hole I've been thrown into."

"Having forgotten birthdays of wives before? Good luck."

"Oh, so is _that_ the reason behind the divorces?" Emily asked.

Rossi pointed a finger at her. "Watch it."

* * *

They finished the plans long before they landed, and when they finally did, Derek walked over, nudging Spencer's arm. "Come on, let's get you home."

Spencer sat up, grabbing his things from the overhead and yawning. "Don't we have to go back for the paperwork?"

JJ groaned. "Spence, shh. There is _no_ way after the last few days, I am going anywhere but home."

Hotch picked up his go-bag. "We'll do the paperwork in the morning. 9:00 a.m., don't be late."

Spencer raised his eyebrows, watching as the team walked off the jet, leaving just him and Derek.

"How many times would I have to say please for you to drive home?" Spencer asked.

Derek smirked, holding up the keys. "On it, sleeping beauty."

Spencer mimicked him, following him over toward the car.

* * *

At their place, Derek let Clooney out while Spencer walked to their room, unpacking his go-bag. He put his clothes into the laundry before kicking off his shoes, changing into a pair of pajamas and lying down. This case had definitely exhausted him, and he was more than ready to get a good night's sleep in his own bed. Derek walked in a minute later, stripping down to his boxers and lying next to him, pulling him toward him.

Spencer turned around. "Yes, dear?"

"Getting the cuddling time I was deprived of over the last few days."

Spencer smiled slightly, resting his head on Derek's chest. "I'm sorry. I took a case personally and I shouldn't have let it affect our relationship."

"I snapped at you quite a few times on the Billy Flynn case. Trust me, I get it." He kissed Spencer's forehead, rubbing his back.

Spencer sighed, moving closer and leaning his head up, kissing his cheek. "Thanks for understanding."

"Anytime. Listen, I'm going to make an early morning run to the gym tomorrow, and then go to work from there. Do you want to come with me, or-"

Spencer groaned, shaking his head and burying his head in Derek's shoulder. "For the love of God, Derek Morgan, if you don't let me sleep in tomorrow and I have to work a full day on minimal sleep-"

"So you're taking the train?"

He nodded. "I'll meet you there by 9:00."

"Sounds like a plan." He kissed Spencer's forehead, before running a hand through his hair and watching him slowly fall asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Spencer woke up the following morning to an alarm going off. He hadn't set one the night before, so was definitely confused. He reached over and saw a note on top of the alarm clock. After turning off the alarm, he picked up the note, blinking a few times before he was able to read it.

_I figured this would be better than a wake-up call a half hour ago. I hope you enjoyed sleeping in. Clooney's fed and he's been out, so you only need to worry about yourself this morning. I'll see you at work in a bit, and date night tonight is on me._

- _Derek_

He smiled to himself, folding the note and setting it down. He looked at the time and saw that he had just about an hour before he had to leave for work, which gave him time for a quick shower, a cup of coffee at home, and picking one up after getting off the train. He thought this was a fantastic plan and went about it. After getting dressed and drying his hair, he put in his contacts, before walking to the kitchen and making himself a cup of coffee. After checking the clock, he packed up his satchel and put on his jacket and scarf, before putting his bag on his shoulder. He gave Clooney a quick scratch behind the ears before walking out, locking the door behind him.

He'd stopped at his favorite coffee shop for a coffee and made it to work in record time. As the elevator doors opened, he stepped out, walking toward the glass doors leading to the bullpen.

Emily walked up to him, getting his attention. "Hey, Reid, um, Hotch wants to talk to you."

He groaned, making a face, pretty sure he knew why he wanted to talk to him alone.

She looked at him, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"He probably wants to talk to me about why I've been kind of weird lately."

"You are making a difference, you know. One person at a time."

He smirked slightly. "Thank you. You know, I've been thinking a lot lately about why I stayed after Gideon left, why I didn't take any of those other offers." He never told anybody on the team, but he'd been offered several positions over the last few years, many of which had much better hours and involved much less violence and danger. Some even involved the sciences, which would've been extremely interesting to pursue.

She gave a slight nod. "Nothing is accidental."

"And I realized, I don't know, there's just something… incredibly right about being here. With you guys."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." She rested a hand on his back, leading him into the bullpen. "Otherwise, this would have been really awkward."

He raised an eyebrow, turning to face her. "What would've been really awkward?"

She kept leading him inside until they were outside the doors for the BAU room, where the blinds were down. He saw that none of his team members were at their desks and in their offices and wondered what could be going on.

She smiled to him as she stepped toward the door, opening it.

* * *

"Surprise!" Garcia called out. This was quickly followed by a 'happy birthday' from everybody on the team.

JJ was the first to walk up to him. "Happy Birthday!" she said, before wrapping her arms around him, patting his back. "Happy Birthday."

He smiled and rubbed her back. "Thank you, thank you."

He switched the hands for his coffee to take Hotch's hand, shaking it. "Happy late 30."

The next thing he knew, Rossi grabbed him by his cheeks, pulling him in and kissing him on each one. He smiled as he pulled back and hugged Garcia.

Derek clapped a hand against his shoulder. "Happy Birthday, old man." He hugged him, patting his back. "Happy Birthday. Almost 40 now."

"Oh?" Spencer said, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow.

Garcia held up the cake to him, with two purple candles and a birthday greeting written out in binary code. "Make a good one," she said, looking up at him.

He thought to himself, smiling, before blowing out the candles as the team cheered.

* * *

As they all sat down to enjoy their cake, Spencer eyed Emily, pointing his fork at her. "This is your doing."

"Excuse me?" she asked, setting her plate down.

He nodded, taking another bite. "This sure as hell wasn't Derek's doing, or it would've actually been done on or around my birthday. Considering he completely forgot, no matter how many not so subtle hints I dropped? It definitely wasn't him."

Everyone turned their attention to Derek, who put his hands up. "I forgot _one_ thing. _One_ thing over the past few years."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "So… you can remember the anniversary of the day I first said 'I love you', and you can remember the anniversary of our first kiss, _and_ you can remember the day I moved in with you, but you _really_ couldn't remember my _birthday_?"

JJ eyed Derek. "You're the romantic type?"

He scoffed. "Yes, I am, if you'll believe it."

"What are they?" Garcia asked.

Derek looked at Spencer. "Do I have to?"

"Mhm," Spencer said, setting his fork down.

Derek groaned. "First date was January 16th. The first I love you was our first Valentines, along with the first kiss, and he moved in with me four years ago on June 10th."

Garcia aww'd, nudging JJ's arm. "Does Will remember that many anniversaries?"

She shook her head. "I wish."

* * *

Spencer looked around. "Shouldn't we be getting to the case files?"

Garcia shook her head, flicking his ear. "We actually have a break from the monotony and you want to go _back_ to it? For shame, Spencer Reid. Enjoy the down time while we have it, because before long, there's going to be another pain in the ass case to solve."

He put his hands up defensively. "Nevermind."

* * *

After Derek helped him bring the presents down to the car, they walked back to the conference room and saw that everyone was busy in their own conversations. Derek saw this as an opportunity and smiled to himself, taking Spencer's hand and walking to his office.

"Derek, what are you doing? I can't just abandon my own birthday celebration… can I?"

"They're all talking to each other. Trust me, they won't even notice you're gone."

He licked his lips, thinking. "Fine, just… not too long, okay? I feel guilty that everyone took their morning to dote on me, and I don't want them to suddenly realize that I took off on them."

Derek smiled, nodding. "I can make this quick."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Make what quick?"

Derek walked into his office, closing the door behind him.

Spencer looked at him. "So are you going to tell me what's going on in your head, or-"

Derek put up a finger, locking his office door and pulling the shades down, verifying that he couldn't see out, and in turn, nobody could see in. He then walked over to the wall, standing next to his filing cabinet and pushing it in front of the door.

"Derek Morgan, _what_ are you doing?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"I'm pretty sure Penelope Garcia knows how to pick a lock."

"…What does her ability to pick a lock have to do with _anything_?"

"Well," Derek started, stepping toward him, "I'm pretty sure I don't want her to walk in on this."

"Walk in on wha-" Spencer started, before Derek pulled him into a kiss, leaning him against the desk. Spencer put a hand behind him, bracing himself so he didn't fall back on the desk.

"Derek, what on _earth_?" Spencer asked, pulling back and looking up at him.

Derek smirked, leaning in and whispering in his ear. "Happy Birthday, Pretty Boy. Let's see if we can have our own celebration."

Spencer's eyes widened, his focus still on Derek's eyes. "Derek, I love you, but have you forgotten we just had a seminar on fraternization a few weeks ago? It took up an entire night, which was supposed to be our date night? Hotch is extremely lax with the rules with us, and I appreciate it, but I don't think copulating on your desk is something he can easily overlook." He eyed the desk. "Though it does seem extremely enticing." He raised an eyebrow. "And it definitely wouldn't be the _weirdest_ place we've been together."

Derek smiled, sitting Spencer on the desk as he pulled off his scarf. "Would that be the park after dark… or the second floor of the library?"

Spencer blushed, shrugging off his jacket. "I um, I think that award goes to the backseat of your car while we were parked outside Rossi's mansion after the cooking lessons." He bit down on his lip as Derek nipped at his neck. "God damnit, what are you doing?"

"Giving you a reason to wear that scarf," he whispered, biting down on his neck and smirking.

Spencer tilted his head back, resisting the urge to moan. They may have been locked in the office with nobody able to look in, but that didn't make the place soundproof.

He laid back on the desk, pushing away anything that got in his way. He then wrapped his legs around Derek's, pulling him in.

"So, do you forgive me?" Derek whispered, before kissing at his neck again.

He nodded slightly, biting his lip. "Date night still on for tonight?"

He reached up, running a hand through Spencer's hair. "Anywhere you want, anything you want to do, my treat."

"Can we just… stay here?"

Derek smirked. "Oh, I like the sound of that, but as promised, date night's still on, unless there's a case-"

"Where I fully expect to be roommates."

* * *

Spencer had to admit, even though there was a lot on the line if they were caught, he was definitely enjoying spending some alone time with Derek at work. Nobody was looking for them, there wasn't a case to catch up on, and they were nearly caught up on their individual work. He wrapped an arm around Derek's neck, looking up at him.

"We should," he started, panting, "we should probably get back to the party, before anyone notices we're gone."

Derek nodded, kissing his forehead. "To be continued tonight?"

Spencer smiled slightly, sitting up on the desk. "You bet." Just like that, the frisky Spencer had disappeared, and regular, OCD Spencer took over, putting everything on the desk back in its place. Derek walked over, pushing the cabinet away from his door and opening the blinds. Luckily, nobody from the team had caught on and they were all still preoccupied at the party.

He unlocked the door and led Spencer back to the conference room.

Garcia looked over, raising an eyebrow. "Took you two long enough. Where did you park, Derek, back home?"

He smiled, taking a seat. "Sorry, Baby Girl."

She looked between the two, shaking her head and smirking. "So, 187, are you having a happy belated 30th?"

He looked around at the team and quickly eyed Derek with a nod. "If this is how we celebrate, feel free to forget 31."

Emily scoffed. "After forgetting 30 resulted in you considering ditching us? Not a chance. Especially considering we have a birthday coordinator now."

"Birthday coord-" he smiled, shaking his head. "Garcia?"

"You bet, Boy Wonder." She ruffled his hair, hugging him from behind. "Trust me when I say I'll never forget another birthday again."

He looked over at Derek, eyebrow raised, and the message was definitely received: Derek could forget a birthday if it meant he'd get date nights and office makeout sessions.


End file.
